


so many of us lie (but you're not the worst)

by orphan_account



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Butch/Femme, F/F, Flowers, Fluff and Angst, Gift Exchange, Gift Fic, Sparring, The epitome of femininity and her butch snake gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16093778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Greed is gone, and the Devil’s Nest inhabitants are left on their scattered lonesome. Or- ‘in which Bradley doesn't go scorched Earth on the Devil’s Nest’.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For so-owlyoudoing on tumblr! Title from [I'll Make You Sorry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LM4-JucHesE) by the Screaming Females.  
> This is more of fluffy-hurt-comfort-y nonsense than "this is what I realistically believe they would do in this situation". I might write more with them sometime.

They had agreed to go their separate ways.

Martel hadn’t looked back, even when the temptation grew to its strongest. She knew what would happen if she hesitated, even for a second- after all, the military had been quite clear about their intentions. _“Leave. We only needed him.”_ Martel replayed it in her mind, clear as if it was being spoken.

_“If we you come back here again, you will be shot on sight.”_

Her boots skidded on the wet pavement. She had to stop- she had been running for hours. The endurance that her chimeric nature granted her could only go so far, unlike Roa and Dolcetto’s seemingly endless stamina. They had to have been out of the city by now; she took solace in that.

Dublith was _hot_ , even for a woman that was part snake, and Martel had to lean against the brick wall to her side. All that the rain had done was make the city that much more humid. Ulchi would have enjoyed the weather- not that Martel really wanted that sick fuck on her mind, right now. She shouldn’t have had _any_ of the other chimeras on her mind, really. She was on her own, out of necessity, out of **_survival_ ** , and to reunite with any of them would be to make herself a massive target.

Was this what she wanted?

Hot, salty water dripped down from the wall and onto her face, but she could have believed that she was crying. Martel felt a disconnect from her body that she hadn’t felt since she first became a chimera- the distinct sense of _who am I, why am I here, why do I still try?_ that had haunted her.

_I said, is this what you want?_

Martel put her hands over her ears. She wanted out. Out of this city, out of this body, out of this new life as a fugitive.

“You’ll need to do more than that to ignore me.”

Gasping, Martel couldn’t take her hands off of her ears fast enough; she barely had time to take in the statuesque woman kneeling in front of her, before that same woman was gently prying Martel’s hands off of her ears. (‘Gently’, of course, being subjective.)

For a short moment, Martel considered going along with the woman, but she knew better than that- she was a fugitive, even moreso than usual, and accepting help from a stranger would, again, be a death sentence. Martel gripped onto one of the woman’s opalescent hands, trying to pry it off of her wrist, but the woman matched her strength.

“Why are you in such a hurry?”

Martel struggled more intensely.

“Girl,” The word was growled, but Martel’s gasp nearly drowned it out. “ _You’re not going to win against me just with strength_.”

The hand gripping her had deformed into something grotesque and twisted, not even recognizable as a hand- it shot past her wrist, going to graze Martel’s face just firmly enough to break the skin. It didn’t bleed, and somehow, Martel knew that it wouldn’t- it was a warning. The hand shot back at the same time that Martel slumped back against the wall, in awe and thoroughly terrified so as not to fight back.

“Don’t look so surprised- you’ve dealt with us before, haven’t you?”

“You’re- you’re like Greed.”

She smiled, but Martel just gaped. The words hadn’t even consciously come up- they just fell out of her, like an instinct.

“I do resent being compared to him, but you’re right- we are sort of like siblings. Now, you know what he was, I assume- and _you know what he was capable of_ . So will you listen to me, or do I need to get **_assertive?_ ** ”

Martel swallowed.

“I’m listening.”

“Good.”

She was fully released, and the woman seemed to relax. “My name is Lust. I-”

“Like the sins!?”

Martel wasn’t sure why she blurted it out; she blushed, feeling embarrassed. The woman _tsk_ ’d.

“...Like the sins, yes. Then you know that there are others like us. But, they’re neither here nor there- I’m all alone. Just like you,” She seemed to pause, to let that sink in. “Unfortunately, Greed was a lost cause, but...as much of an idiot as he might have been, he saw something in you. I’m inclined to believe that he was on to something.”

For the first time, the smile that the woman wore seemed genuine. Martel struggled to admit that it might have had _compassion_ behind it- was this woman, Lust, even capable of that?- but it certainly seemed warmer than before.

Greed had been a master manipulator, though, and Martel had no reason to believe that Lust was any different.

“I won’t work for you! You can kill me right now-!”

“Honey, _relax_ ,” Lust put up her hands. “You’re not doing anything for you. _I’m_ helping **_you_ ** here. And I know, that sounds exactly like how my ‘little brother’ would get you to do things you might not have wanted to do, but the only things that I have in common with him are what I’m made of, and how much I hate the rest of my siblings.”

“Then, what-”

Lust sighed, and started to stand. “We have to get out of here. Follow me, or stay here and die. Your choice.”

“You just said you wouldn’t kill me!” Martel ran her words together, this time, desperate to not be cut off; Lust didn’t cut her off, but it did feel slightly anticlimactic that that was all she had to say.

“Those men that found you are doing a sweep of a city. They lied to you- yes, I know, shocking. I’m giving you a second chance to not end up like that ox friend of yours.”

Martel’s head spun. She still hadn’t processed most of what Lust had told her- was Greed dead? Could he die? And Roa- oh, god, Roa...she could live without Ulchi, but the rest were her family, and thinking about what had happened to them- how sadistic they might have been- it just-

“Hey, come on. It’s alright.”

Lust had turned around, and knelt back by Martel. Martel was only aware of that when she felt the homunculus’s hands on her shoulders, oddly comforting as she cried. It was too much.

“We all want things in life- we want our families to be alright, we want our personal goals to come true, we want love, power, money...I want you to get what you want, hun. But you have to let me help you, first.”

With Roa dead and only assumptions available for what had happened to the others, Martel felt her inhibitions shatter. So what if Lust killed her? It wasn’t like Martel could beat her in a fight- Lust had told her that, herself. She knew the unkillable nature of these beasts firsthand, and, honestly, Martel thought that she’d rather die among familiar company than alone on a muggy street.

Sniffling, Martel looked up.

“Ok. Ok, let’s do this.”


	2. Chapter 2

It had been months, and the trek from the cabin never seemed to get any shorter.

Martel huffed as he hit the steepest part of the hill, then looked out; Lust was still taking her time to show up. It was safe out here, at least, to spend the time waiting doing something useful- like chopping wood, or chopping wood, or chopping more wood. Or chopping wood. Or- ok, the point had been made. Martel couldn’t even begin to complain about the cabin that Lust had found for her, but the constant fueling of the fireplace  _ did _ get tiresome.

Sure enough, Martel retrieved her hatchet from the pile of supplies that she kept, grabbing with it a bundle of twine to wrap up her harvest. She marched back towards the treeline on the thinner part of the hill. It got tiring, sure- boring, absolutely. But just as the action had a purpose, it had seemingly given her one, as well. Plus, she thought as she swung her first chop, the constant working out had done wonders for her physique.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Martel dropped her hatchet. That was another thing she had been working on- making it not seem like she was terrified whenever Lust sudden appeared. She knew, by then, that Lust couldn’t  _ literally _ materialize out of the ground, but it sure seemed like it.

“ _ Hah _ , well, I can’t complain!” Martel rubbed the back of her neck. It was bizarre, how she’d watched Lust’s appearance remain unchanged, but the months out in the wilderness had definitely changed her- and not just in terms of muscle mass. Her skin was a tanned olive, blending in with some of her lighter scars, and her clothes seemed to fit her just that little bit better lately with the food that Lust brought her. 

The concept itself was funny: Martel’s physical health was improving not in spite of, but  _ because _ she was living as a hermit in the woods. Still, she struggled to think that the changes went deeper than the physical; her anxiety had lapped at her for months, a wave against her that refused to recede.

“You can complain, you know. I won’t toss you to my little brother if you tell me the cabin is drafty.”

Having someone to joke with, to flirt with- that did feel nice. It could have been better, but...even with Lust’s permission, she couldn’t complain. Lust patted Martel on the arm.

“Let’s get going.”

Martel smiled. “Right.”

They both knew where they were going, but the boot-worn path in the hillside helped to guide them nonetheless. Lust seemed to have grown alongside Martel, in much more subtle ways- or, at least, in what Martel viewed as subtle. (She had to admit, she did struggle with acknowledging ‘Lust as a person should not be able to feel the things that she is expressing’- it just felt too alien for the woman she had grown to…) Martel ended that thought right there, blowing out a heavy sigh. Anyways, yes, Lust didn’t care half as much about the dirt on her boots as she used to, nor about the sweat that would inevitably drip onto her from her sparring mate.

That was another thing that Martel enjoyed- having someone to fight with that  _ wouldn’t _ beat her nearly to death. It wasn’t intentional, but, well...maybe controlling your power was something homunculi had to learn with age.

At the base of the hill, Martel’s first task from some months ago awaited them: wooden targets, carved from her bowie knife. They were crude, and beginning to fall apart as the seasons grew colder, but they did the job. Lust leaned against a vaguely-human-shaped target.

“I think we can skip the knife-throwing today, don’t you think?”

Martel, her hand already halfway to her holster, tried not to look disappointed.

“Oh, right. Yeah, we have been doing that a lot lately,” Martel laughed, redirecting her hand to rub at the back of her head. She’d been growing her hair out- sort of like Lust’s. “What else would you suggest?”

Though Martel theoretically appreciated the chance to spar, it was never really the ‘chance’, and Lust made sure that she knew that. Most things with Lust came conditionally- the cabin, her safety in general, even Lust’s very presence there. Those three all came on the condition that Martel work to keep herself safe, because, as Lust put it, ‘I’ve already worked all of my miracles.’

So, Martel would spar with Lust, and she’d set her own traps around the cabin; she’d keep her own watch, vet her own wanderers through the forest (and, much to Lust’s appreciation, Martel hadn’t hesitated to ‘silence’ a single one of them yet). She was happy for the tradeoff, and while it wasn’t ‘optional’, not once did she ever feel forced.

“Why don’t we keep it simple,” Even before Lust spoke, Martel was ready. “Brace yourself!”

A resounding ‘OOF!’ echoed throughout the clearing, as Martel managed to land the first hit square in the center of Lust’s abdomen. Nevertheless, Lust recovered with a superhuman speed, and went right for Martel’s own belly; Martel wouldn’t let her have it. Lust was flipped back onto the loose dirt beneath them, but the fight continued as soon as she was dropped.

Martel had, somehow, gotten used to it- the uber-high-action brawling, the no-holds-barred punches and kicks. The only thing that Lust held back was her claws.

“Ow!”

She panted. Lust was on her in a moment, hands at her face to inspect the damage. She had let her claws slip out, just barely enough to graze, but enough to leave a mark nonetheless. Martel moaned. Why, why did it hurt so much worse than when she fought Greed? He had his own claws, he  _ turned himself into metal as they fought _ , why did this hurt-

“Relax.”

Lust’s hands rubbed either of Martel’s cheeks. Without realizing it, Martel had started to cry- while Lust couldn’t exactly relate to the feeling, she always did her best to comfort her...Martel struggled to come up with a word for their relationship. ‘Friend’ didn’t sound terrible. No, it didn’t sound bad at all. 

Martel rubbed her chest, right at the sternum, and Lust lowered one of her hands there, as well.

“You went for my chest, and I went for yours...I guess we’ve both learned a lesson in aiming,” Lust was apologetic, but Martel could tell that something was lacking. “I lost control. It won’t happen again, so long as  _ you _ don’t do that again.”

For everything that Lust had given her, Martel still found things, well...lacking. Lust could never give a fully human apology- the words would leave her lips effortlessly, but they would never make it to the depth of her eyes. Her eyebrows, too, would rarely, if ever, move; her lips never seemed to so much as twitch into a frown. It was regrettable, of course, that Martel had experience with Lust’s ‘apologies’ to begin with.

Lust brought her hand back to Martel’s cheek. That was one thing she was good at- touch. She had expressed to Martel, once, when Martel had gotten sick, that she was the best of her siblings at that; Greed only understand  _ want _ , in the form of sex or otherwise, and the others just didn’t care for it. She never went into detail about who the ‘others’ were, specifically- just her two little brothers, mostly.

“I’m sorry.”

Martel sniffed. Even now, months later, it was hard to show weakness around her- but, for a different reason now then before. Martel didn’t want to upset, or concern, her friend.

“Is it alright to stop for tonight?”

“Yes,” Lust helped them both up, letting Martel lean on her. “Let’s get you back inside.”

 

* * *

 

Martel woke up in a cold sweat.

“Lust-”

“I’m here, honey.”

Accompanied by her still-gloved hands, Lust rushed to comfort her. Martel clung to Lust, probably more intimate than most ‘friends’ would have even considered. Lust pet the back of Martel’s hair, where it was growing to its thickest; Martel noticed that Lust didn’t shy away as her gloves grew slick with sweat, nor as Martel cried into her. As broken as Martel felt, Lust glued back the pieces for her, in the way that only an abomination of Christ itself could. Martel laughed, at that.

“Is something funny?” Lust’s voice was incredulous, but still had that air of ‘attempting to be comforting’. It was hilarious. Martel laughed harder, but tried to catch her breath.

“No, it’s just- ok, yeah.  **You’re** funny. You’re, like- hey, don’t give me that look!”

Lust scoffed. “We’ve established, by now, that I’m sensitive about my looks.”

“We have, yeah…”

Martel looked into Lust’s eyes, and she felt her nightmare melt away. Such a common subject of her nightmares, Roa would have wanted her to have this much for herself. He would have wanted her to be, above anything else, happy...and to be her own, spontaneous self in doing so.

Neither of them seemed sure of how to react when Martel leaned in for a kiss. Lust didn’t pull back; Martel didn’t lean forwards. Both of Lust’s hands went to Martel’s face, and Martel, in turn, returned the gesture- and, just like that, they kissed. Far too little and far too much, they’d both kissed and been kissed; but, it was in that moment, that both of them realized that they would never want another pair of lips on theirs again.


	3. Chapter 3

Though she didn’t sleep, Lust could pretend. She had gotten into the habit of it. Martel was comforted by a warm, snoring presence at her side, though- with no intended insult to her partner’s intelligence- Lust had to wonder just how convincing her ‘snoring’ really was. Regardless, it had become a routine for them, and both of them liked routine.

To a fault, that was.

Lust had left a bushel of flowers on the mantle before she left, having feigned falling asleep next to Martel the night before- again, Lust wasn’t sure if Martel knew that she couldn’t sleep, or if she was truly believing the act. It was a question that Lust would never find an answer for. Lust would die with those questions burning a hole in her skull, in what would be perhaps her most human act yet. Of course, she was no psychic, but the ‘feeling of impending doom’ just couldn’t be shaken.

Martel had worth, no matter how ‘damaged’ she might have been, or how ‘damaged’ she might have seen herself. Lust was sure of it, and she didn’t want Martel to doubt it even for a moment. That was why, she thought, slinking out into the night, to her impending doom, to the end of everything for her- why that would be better than trying to tell Martel just why she couldn’t change her mind.

The overall lackluster nature of her leaving aside, Lust prided herself on one thing as she left: she had ensured Martel’s safety, mentally and physically.

  


* * *

 

 

_Martel,_

_The art of writing letters is a human skill at its core. I_

 

That was all that she could scrape out of the fireplace. Martel wasn’t ready to cry, even if she was willing to- which, after some time, she finally was. Before, it had been something she unfortunately accepted, as her broken, damaged body gave in to the sensation; but, just as funny as the rest of her, Lust had hilariously helped Martel in one big way: being more human.

“You really left, huh?”

It was spoken more to the air than to anyone in specific. They’d had that conversation before- several times, actually. Crying, and the free will to cry, were both inherently human things- things that Lust could never grasp. It would be alright, now. Martel sniffled, but when tears didn’t fall, it wasn’t because she didn’t _want_ to cry- she just knew, again, that **_things would be ok_ **.

She was stronger than ever, mentally and physically, and she was ready to tackle anything. Including, apparently, something that needed to be _literally_ tackled.

Without even thinking, the intruder was slammed to the ground, just inches from having their- his?- face slammed into- his!?- the fireplace. His!

“ **DOLCETTO?** ”

She boomed loud enough for the entire valley to hear- again, literally, as birds scattered on the horizon and deer began to retreat further into the woods. Dolcetto didn’t look…’horrible’, for someone pinned to the floor by a woman twice as muscular and twice as heavy as him. It looked like she’d gained every bit of mass that he’d lost.

Dolcetto grinned, and Martel could just picture a tail happily wagging beneath them. He opened his mouth to speak, but Martel cut him off.

“Let me guess- a woman told you to come here!!!”

“Yes! How did you know!?”

Martel relented, and they both gathered their bearings on the floor of the cabin. Looking again, Dolcetto really didn’t look half bad- moreso, he just looked like he’d been sort of ‘slumming it up’ for the past year. Martel patted him with a firm hand on his back, and they both laughed.

“She gave me a note, but...it’s sort of boring.”

“Huh?” Martel watched Dolcetto dig in his pockets. He’d gotten new clothes, at least, which suddenly made Martel feel a bit insecure. That, and the fact that she hadn’t been given a note, but her friend that she hadn’t seen in a year definitely had.

Dolcetto handed over the note, crumpled heavily from where he had no-doubt jammed it into his pockets.

 

_Leave the country by any means possible. It’s not important where you go, but the further away, the better. Stay there until you hear news from Amestris that it’s safe- and, trust me, you will hear news._

_Regards,_

_Solaris_

She had signed it with a heart beside the ‘Solaris’. Martel chuckled.

“I guess we should get out of here then, huh?”

Dolcetto bumped his head against her shoulder. Martel patted him back, then stood to gather the flowers off of the mantel beside them. Anything else left in the cabin wasn’t important.

“Yeah. Let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To think that I almost tagged this as 'angst with a happy ending'!


End file.
